Desperation
by JSamT
Summary: This story features the Assassin, Robert Francois Damiens. A french Assassin who failed an attempted assassination on King Louis in 1759.
1. The Dark

The year was 1723, the wind whistled as it hit the windows, and the dim light coming from the lantern lit the room just a tad bit. Thunder crashing against the trees and roofs of civilians, rats scurrying throughout the Parisian streets and the gutter flooded with water, three men gathered at the centre of a bridge transcending across the River Seine. Nobody was around, inside during that sort of weather.

"We must not let a chance like this go to waste, it's too important," one man explained gripping onto the knife by his side.

"Are you sure this is right thing to do, what if they're right?" Asked another, shaking in his boots.

"Does it matter? Let's just get the job done Amir," replied the third person.

I stared at them closely, watching their every move and wondering why they were just standing there. They weren't close, they weren't far either, and when they started to charge towards my home, I knew something wasn't right. I charged out the room slamming the door behind me, knocking on my parents' bedroom door heavily, I thought it was hopeless but as I was turning, I heard it creak behind me. My father stood before me, I still remember his brown beard and hair, and I could never forget his blue eyes. They shined brighter than anything I'd ever seen, it was amazing. My dad was trying to calm me down but suddenly he stopped, I wondered why but it became clear after I heard the doorknob begin to rumble. I still remember the last words before they barged in.

"Son! Grab your mother, hide inside the closet, if you hear shouting and screams, don't come out!" He shouted, I didn't hesitate, I sprinted passed him and shook my mother repeatedly. She eventually followed me, though she was half asleep, we hid in the closet and kept the doors locked. The sound of screaming echoed throughout the house. We remained when suddenly, it all stopped, everything just went silent. I exited the closet to see what had happened when I found my father laying there, bleeding from the mouth, two of the men by his side and Amir standing there with the knife.

"Where is it?!" Shouted Amir, tears pouring down his cheek. He quickly ran away, smashing through the door and into the rain. My father was lying there, helpless, and dead. I guess that's how this all started.

"How did you find yourself in this position?" Asked a well-fitted man, sipping his expensive glass of fine wine.

"It's fairly simple, I've been across so many jobs I don't know where to count, been involved in the military, apparently I'm mentally unstable, got discharged, so I started working at the college, I was recently fired though for misconduct, apparently students don't like the smell of a roaring fire right next to the main building," the other responded, his rags reeking of booze and his feet as dark as mud.

"Robert-François, you're crazy, what are your motives for all these actions? Does it please you? Or are you, as most say, mentally unstable?" The man questioned, watching Robert closely.

"Alright, I'm going to be perfectly honest with you Giuseppe, I see shadows behind me, everywhere I go, I do all these horrible deeds in hopes of them stopping me, it's strange, I know," Robert told Giuseppe closely, gripping his arm.

"Even here Robert?" Giuseppe whispered.

"Even here," Robert responded, noticing a man who clothed himself with a white garment, covering his face with a hood. Robert was quick to his feet, knocking over the stool, the hooded man stood up straight, a tall man, a jacket made of silk and the shine of steel reflecting from his wrist.

"I've had enough of your games, I see the hood every time I see the shadow, who are you and why are you following me?!" Robert shouted in frustration. The Assassin quickly flicked his wrist, the steel of a blade launching out. His legs skipped across the table in front of him and he leaped like a cougar, placing himself on top of Robert, holding the blade to the throat of his frightened victim. The man just laughed, not only at the bartender hiding behind but the expression on Robert's face.

"Relax, I'm not going to kill you, if I was, I would've done it by now, I guess you deserve to know, even if your friend here knows he won't survive with this sort of knowledge," the hooded man got to his feet and aided Robert in getting back on his.

"I am Manfreddo Enemmi, I'm a part of the age old order of Assassins, I would tell you more but this place isn't the most secure location for disclosing our secrets," Manfreddo said to Robert and Giuseppe, handing Robert a piece of paper and eventually storming out of the Pub.

"Are you seriously going to go?" Giuseppe asked, Robert nodded his head slowly; unsure of what had just happened.

The sun was settling and the drunkards were beginning to emerge from their nests, Robert arrived at his destination, Giuseppe decided to leave Paris, shocked from the Assassin's attack in the pub. Robert opened the door quietly and peered inside, it was pitch black, and the wooden floors creaked as he entered. It looked abandoned, though signs indicated that it wasn't, the map was one and the dim light in the distance was another. Robert entered the room, it was bright and surrounding it were maps of Paris, plans and contraption blueprints. Manfreddo stood by a door, seemingly on guard.

"The Mentor wishes to speak with you, enter at your own risk though, nothing suggests he won't knock you out if anything goes wrong," said Manfreddo, opening the door. Robert walked up the steps, water leaking from the pipes on the ceiling and one even dripping onto his back and down his spine. Robert entered a small room, the desk at the very center and a bed behind it. Robert looked around, hoping to find somebody in the room.

"Welcome Robert, I'm Giacomo Casanova and I'm in charge of the Assassin Order in France," the man said, pushing himself down into his chair.

"There's more of you people?" Robert asked, curiosity booming.

"Did you think we could shape the course of Italian history from here? Or even Indian history, American history, just history in general? No, we're everywhere, though unfortunately, so are they," Giacomo responded cynically, grasping the arms of his chair tightly.

"And who are they?" Robert continued.

"They are Templars, they killed your father and ''they'' will kill you too, given the chance." Giacomo answered, with a grin.

"So they're the bad guys?" Robert questioned, wondering how true this information is.

"Templars aren't bad guys Robert, they strive for the same goals we strive for, what makes them different is how they wish to achieve it and what would happen once they achieve it," Giacomo told Robert.

"What do the Assassins and Templars strive for?"

"Peace. In all things, though as much as I'd like to discuss it, we'll need to talk more tomorrow or later, I've got business to take care of" Giacomo answered. Robert left the building and began to think about all the conclusions of events that these two organizations may have altered. The assassination of Cleopatra, the fall of Cesare Borgia, the Third Crusades and maybe even the Renaissance.


	2. The Astronomer

Robert re-entered the hideout, and returned to the Mentor. He stood there, peering out the window and eventually noticed that Robert had let himself in.

"Greetings Robert, I trust everything's well?" Giacomo asked, smiling.

"I want in," Robert responded quickly, "I was up all night, thinking about what you had said and I realize that I need a purpose!"

"Everyone is here for a reason, I cannot just make you an Assassin, it requires dedication and time, even if you are an Assassin in a way, you're not a true Assassin until you die defending what you hold dear to you or unless you've done all you can do for your time," the Mentor responded.

"Then tell me what must be done, and I'll see that it's completed," Robert told the Mentor.

"Why are you so eager? There must be more reasoning to join us, Robert, and I don't appreciate the fact that you're lying to me," Giacomo responded.

"Have you ever just known something without any research put into it?" Robert asked.

"Every day, that's what an Assassin strives on," Giacomo replied.

"Well, this is something you must trust me on, please, I am willing to do the job fully, just let me do it!" Robert exclaimed, slamming his fist into the table.

"His name is Jacques Cassini, he's a Templar currently stationed in Lyons, kill him and then maybe I'll consider it," Giacomo said, sipping on his finest glass of Chardonnay. Robert gripped the handle but was stopped when he heard the fling of still hit the door.

"I didn't say you could leave, we still need to finish our discussion from yesterday," Giacomo told Robert, pointing him to a seat.

"Why do this? Why strive for peace when it's blatantly obvious that chances of peace are slim at best?" Robert asked, leaning forward.

"We need hope to get us through the days, if there's no hope, what point is there in leaving a warm bed in the morning?"

"What can you tell me about my target then, Jacques Cassini sounds familiar."

"He's a French Astronomer, though his work seems good what he intends on calling his next book isn't."

"And what is that?"

"Assassin Credo, so you must understand that this could compromise the Brotherhood, contradicting one of the Creed's three tenets. You may not understand us, but you need to understand the world needs us to work in the shadows"

"I know what must be done," Robert responded, pushing himself up from the chair.

"Take this, good luck," the Mentor said throwing a jewel encrusted knife on the table.

Robert mounted onto his horse in the midst of the night, bringing nothing but his newly given weapon. He rode off, waving the Assassins away, the moon was out, lighting the sky and also the path for Robert. It was hard to take in, the Assassins and Templars but Robert felt as though it was the right thing to do. He continued into the centre of a chasm and all was silent, the ground was shaking around him, he looked up and noticed men with large overcoats hoarding in rocks just above. Robert was about to mount back on his steed when suddenly a boulder comes crashing into the ground, knocking the horse down. Robert leaped onto rocks and glided by. Down came another, creating impact and blowing Robert to his knees. He got back to his feet and continued sprinting, he jumped across the large rocks crashing down to the ground and suddenly he felt an arrow strike his foot.

"They're going to kill me if I don't get out of this trench," Robert murmured to himself. He continued to charge down, a rock flying by, Robert leaped onto it, gripping the stone and eventually trying one leap from the rock to grasp the ledge of the Cliffside hanging over the chasm. One hand managed to grip the ledge, he pulled himself up and charged through, and barrages of arrows came from all directions. He sprinted into one of the men; throwing the weight of his body against the other mans and using it to push him off the cliff. Robert's march continued to the next man, laying him to waste with a dagger to the chest. He was eventually stopped by the cliff's end, leading only to a river down below, the rest of the guards had Robert cornered. They readied their bows and quickly fired, just as the arrows were flying, Robert launched himself down the cliff and extended his arms during the "flight." He crashed down into the water, the pressure of the fall pushing him down to the bottom, he swam up and gasped for air and began to push himself back to land.

The journey was peaceful from there, before stepping into the Astronomer's manor; Robert decided to grab a drink at a Tavern not too far away.

Robert entered, the doors slamming against the wooden walls, the pictures flinging from their hangers from the sudden burst of air. The people there stood silent, noticing the jewel-encrusted knife in Robert's pocket, their eyes just looking at the diamonds. Robert sat himself down, leaning forward in exhaustion, he sighed heavily.

"What do you want?" Asked the barkeep, wiping a wet cloth down the bench, his breath reeking of booze.

"I need to rest, but I also need a name of a man," Robert told the barkeep, the his green eyes shining brightly, "he's an astronomer, goes by the name of Jacques Casini, perhaps you could help me?"

"Alot of people come here asking for Casini, you know what happens to them?" The barkeep asked, leaning over and quietly whispering, "They wind up dead the next morning."

"Just tell me where he is and -" Robert was soon interrupted by the sudden feel of a man's hand swiping his knife.

"You can't miss it, the grass on the lawn is filled with blood stains and its close by the burlesque house," the barkeep quickly said. Robert nodded and charged out the door, he saw the foot of the thief slide through a nearby alleyway. Robert's legs feeling a sting as he charged through the citizens, screaming as his shoulders went through their rib-cages. He turned into a dark alleyway, he saw a stair way ascending up to the rooftops. Robert hastily ran up the stairs, he found himself on the roofs, jumping from rooftop to rooftop. Robert took one last step and then jumped down, crashing on top of the thief, crushing the man's spine.

"Spare me!" The man shouted in agony, his spine crackling under too much pressure. Robert snatched the knife off and held it to the man's neck.

"What point is there in stealing? You're aware that god doesn't approve of stealing?" Robert questioned, pressing the knife closer to the thief's throat.

"Why does anyone do anything?" the thief responded.

"Fair point, but you're interrupting something I need to do, I don't have time for your games!" Robert said, the thief could see the fire inside Robert's eyes.

"Please, spare me!" The thief yelled.

"There's no mercy for the wicked," Robert replied, swiping his hand to the left, leaving nothing but a mark on the man's neck and the blood stain that surrounded it. Getting himself to his feet, Robert gazed at his hands, soaked with blood.

"What have I done?" He muttered to himself, he scaled the nearest building. Robert turned his attention across the city, scanning around for the burlesque house. He soon noticed a series of men entering a small and discrete area by a Mill close by. He noticed the moon was beginning to shine and that the drunks were beginning to wander the streets. Robert kept to the rooftops, avoiding any signs of brawls which were throughout the town between drunks and brutes. He arrived at the burlesque house and noticed across the street, the mailbox of a nearby manor was drenched in blood. Screaming could be heard, though Robert wasn't sure if it were the men getting lucky in the burlesque home or the murder of another man. Whichever answer it was, Robert wouldn't put up with it. He threw himself over the fence and gripped on whatever he could to scale the house. He crawled to a nearby window, opening it slightly so that he could hear what's inside.

"I don't care about the consequences, Roland, just get me out of this home," screamed a voice in fury.

"Why though? Are you not happy with the accommodation?" Replied the man named Roland, his voice being oddly low.

"Don't play me as a fool, I know the Assassin is coming after me, your denial is just aggravating me more!" The man proceeded to scream.

"Be reasonable Jacques, why would they attack you? You've done nothing wrong," Roland responded.

"These Assassin bastards won't stop 'till I am dead!" Jacques yelled, the sound of glass crashing against the wall was heard. Robert had heard enough, he pulled himself into the room and shut the windows.

"Assassin! Roland, help!" Jacques screamed; Roland had already fled from the room. The sound of Jacques' screams as the knife tore into his chest could be heard throughout the town of Lyon.

"Why me? I have done nothing," Jacques spat, blood spurring from his lips.

"This was my assignment, I needed your blood on my blade," Robert told him.

"You'd kill me, because someone asks you to? I hope you rot in hell Assassin," Jacques said.

"No, I'm killing you because I need more answers than what they'll give me, this is the only way and I'm sorry," Robert spoke but before he could finish, the sound of Jacques' heart beating stopped and all went silent.

"Reposer en paix," Robert replied, closing the eyelids of Jacques shut.


	3. The Governor's Plight

Robert had returned to Paris, his eyes fully open, reminiscing of when he was just a mere child, his father's bloodied up body laying before him. He shook the memories out of his head. Praying that these "visions" or "ghosts of his past" would fade away like every other memory. Robert now had the burden of a murder on his mind, his knife slicing through the man's neck and at first he felt nothing. Robert arrived at the Parisian Assassin's building, disguised well, and looking like an average inn. He pushed open the door to Giacomo's office, the door swinging violently against the wall and back shut.

"I didn't expect to see you so soon, I would've thought you would investigate your target, no matter though, is the deed done?" The Mentor asked, smirking.

"Yes, I want to know why you would have me kill him, according to him, he was an innocent!" Robert exclaimed, leaning over and pounding his fist against the desk. The papers being blown to the ground on impact.

"I told you before, the piece of literature that could compromise the Brotherhood, a risk that is not worth taking!" Giacomo yelled, standing out of his chair.

"There has to be another answer then violence, you're holding out on me, I assumed so on the way there, and I knew so on the way back, now tell me," Robert responded, clenching his fists in case a battle were to ensue.

"Fine, there's no point in holding out the truth from _you_, before I continue, do you know the meaning of life?" Giacomo asked curiously, his eyes gleaming.

"No-" Robert said before Giacomo interrupted.

"You can, all we need to do, is find it," Giacomo responded.

"Find what?" Robert questioned, Giacomo sighed and shook his head.

"We don't know, but that's what I want you to find out, when you murdered Jacques, did he leave any evidence to anyone who may know?" He answered, sharpening his knife.

"Before I laid him to waste, he spoke to a man, goes by the name of Roland, any clues?" Continued Robert, thinking about possible connections.

"As a matter of fact, yes, Jacques was a close ally of Roland-Michel Barrin de La Galissonière, the governor of New France, I'll send my spies out to try and locate this man, but before you even attempt at assassinating this man, you need to be properly outfitted and trained. Talk to Charleston, he's usually around the docks near the River Seine," replied Giacomo.

Robert was given some garments by Giacomo, a large white coat with a hood at the very top of it. He tied up all the knots on the black shirt he had received. Placing the belt with a strange insignia around his waist. He placed everything he needed on such as; the spaulder, the vambrace and even the newly acquired "wrist-blade" he had seen from his first encounter with an Assassin. He flicked his wrist and watched as the blade launched at top speed. Soon, when all the gear was ready, he was called out into the night. Before leaving he latched his cape to the spaulder, a black cape with the inner layer being red. Following the other Assassins who charged down the street trying to lose Robert. Through one alleyway, then another and soon, they found themselves on the roof. Robert catching them one-by-one until the very last remained. He was sent on a challenge to find and catch every one of these Assassins. The last Assassin leaped down into the river Seine, Robert followed. Robert continued the chase; charging through civilians, leaping over placed down crates and jumping through stalls. Once the last man had been caught, Robert was sent back to the hideout where he noticed Giacomo planning.

"Greetings Robert, I take it you're exhausted?" Asked Giacomo, grinning heavily.

"I'm good to go again, but before I do, I want you to answer something for me," Robert told the Mentor.

"I always listen to problem, I don't see why you should be different," Giacomo responded kindly.

"Before I left to put Jacques to an end, you said that they killed my father, why did they?" Robert questioned, treading carefully.

"Isn't it obvious, he was an Assassin, _was_ being the keyword, he left before he was killed," Giacomo answered sincerely.

"Why did he quit?" Robert continued.

"You, it was because of you that he quit, he aided us in many attempts afterward but he never returned to becoming directly involved, he only supplied us with Intel on our targets, a great man," Giacomo told Robert.

"Then how come he was killed? If he wasn't directly involved there's no reason why," Robert asked Giacomo.

"Exactly, we have a chance now, to strike back at Louis, the man who ordered your father's death, but Ronald stands in our way, that's why he must be stopped," Giacomo said. Robert nodded in agreement and the two began to plan. Robert began to train, his speed and agility being tested as many Assassins began to fire their arrows towards the _Apprentice_. The arrows came flying at Robert, he dodged many but one eventually hit, striking the arm. He didn't wait for it to recover, continuing his training, Robert began to learn proper ways of assassination; practicing on dummies. Robert leaped from one roof to another, laying his blade into one "dummy" and soon leaped down into a hay bale. He noticed another dummy next to it, he quickly slithered his arm out and placed it swiftly into the back of his "false foe." Robert continued his march, climbing up the building and laying his blade into the "stomach" of the dummy, throwing it from the home and watching as it collides with the ground.

Robert was prepared and ready to depart, Charleston explaining where he was to go, a small hut on the serene country-side. Robert talked with Charleston, learning his story and how he had gotten to the position he was in. Apparently, Charleston had encountered the Templars before Assassins, discovering the plan of Jacques in the first place, rushing to Giacomo; he was impressed by how the young man survived an oncoming trail of guards which had discovered him by the tip of his toes.

"So, do you have any more family, Robert?" He asked, smiling happily.

"Well, it's a long story," Robert began to trail on.

It was around my nineteenth birthday, I was just celebrating living long enough, not a bloody care in the world. Though what did I have to care about, I had friends, a shit-load of women and more than enough money for some ale. Around my second glass, I saw a beautiful woman across the bar, and I mean **stunning**. Her hair was as dark as the night itself and her dress, as bright as lights. I approached her, making sure to dispatch of her friends, sending them to mine. I pulled my charm for the night. I decision I don't regret making either. I took it to her place and did "the deed." Details which I, as a gentleman, cannot disclose to anybody.

I soon discovered her stomach getting larger; I wasn't concerned at first until the mood-swings began to kick in. She was pregnant, at first I wanted to run away, but I couldn't. That child needed a father. I lasted the months, and when the time came, I was right there by her side. She died that day. Once she was gone, I couldn't keep the child, it needed a mother and a father but clearly I was not meant to be either. So I gave it to a friend in Venice, Italy. I rushed as far away as I can and didn't look back. I was struck by grief so hard that it felt like a hammer pounding at my chest repeatedly.

Around 6 months later, I returned to France and discovered my mother had been brutally beaten by an unknown man, her body? Chucked in the River to rot with all the fucking plague infested rats. Just thinking about makes my skin crawl, makes me want to lay my fist into the face of whoever's responsible.

"I'm so sorry to hear about all that Robert, but you must understand, it's not your fault," Charleston responded, patting Robert's back hard.

"I never said it was, I hope that one day I'll be able to find who's responsible and make him pay," Robert said slowly, breathing heavily on every word.

"I'll tell Giacomo this, he may be able to hunt down the person responsible for your mother's murder," Charleston replied, his face struck with grim. Robert and Charleston left the area, preparing for their next tasks.

Robert mounted onto his horse; to his surprise Charleston was accompanying him on the assignment. The too did not gallop, they took their time, communicating along the ride. They settled into a small villa and left the next morning. Riding through the serine countryside of Italy, Robert glared at the blood stained knife. The diamonds beginning to change colour to blood red, not surprising since he had not washed it.

"It's never easy, Robert," Charleston said, "Taking the life of another is difficult, we expect it to be easy at first but then we see the flicker of terror in their eyes, a flicker of innocence and it makes us question why."

"This is different, I killed a thief so freely, it came to me naturally, like I was born to do this," Robert told Charleston, with a glimmer of fear portrayed on his face.

"I know my first kill wasn't easy, the poor sap didn't even see me coming," Charleston responded.

"Really? What happened?" Robert asked.

The night was grim; I was originally just an informant for the Assassins, didn't kill a soul and was happy. I opened the door; the lock had been ripped out of the door. I ran in as fast as I could, everything was spread on the floor; paper, books, pictures and even the shards of my grandmother's favourite vase. I looked for my beautiful wife, Bernadette, she was missing. I began to panic, I charged out the door, looking left and right repeatedly. He noticed a carriage in the distance, instinctively I charged after it. Leaping from building the building, I jumped down to the roof of the carriage; it began to sway, side to side. I felt the carriage about to tip; I place myself down to the ground. Gripping one edge of the carriage, I felt it go off two wheels, it thrusting up and down as it went over the rocks. I soon felt it become steady, my feet were gliding against the ground, my legs beginning to bleed, the sturdy ground tearing through my leggings. I manage to put myself back onto the roof of the carriage, I began to tear through the roof-entrance of the carriage, I soon felt it burst open, but it pushed me down to the ground. A large man made his way up to the top. He gives me a stern look; his face was solid as a rock.

I threw a punch, for someone of his size and stature he was swift. He gripped my fist and began to move his thumb around the knuckles, putting me down to my knees as he laid one more fist into my jaw. I quickly swept my feet, tripping him down to the ground. We fought on the ground, each inflicting some sort of pain to one another, then the carriage turned on a nearby cliff. We tumbled off, our backs striking the cliff face. I crawled to the man, detaching my blade from the bracer and held it to his neck.

"What do you want?" the man asked, grasping for any air.

"Where is she?!" I screamed, weeping.

"Gone," the man replied, grinning. Out of frustration and anger, I laid the detached blade into his chest. One stab. Two stab. Three. Four. Worst thing is, it was the best feeling I ever felt. It's been three years; I haven't found her to this day.

"You're not the only one who lost a loved one, you won't be the last either," Robert told Charleston.

"I'm sure, that's actually why I'm here, I was told she's somewhere in Rome," Charleston said.

The night was young, the Assassins horses trailed through the midst of the evening. The moon just shining over the monuments of Rome. Charleston and Robert settled in at a moderately small inn just on the countryside, surrounded by trees, seemingly making it invisibly to those who must not know of its whereabouts. A smash of glass on the floor was heard, Robert swiftly threw himself out of bed, he grabbed a nearby dagger sliding it gently into his pocket. He waited for the knob to begin rattling but it didn't. About to return to his slumber, a scream caught his attention.

"Charleston," he murmured to himself. He bursts through the door, charging through the corridor loudly. He crashed his elbow against the door, violently swinging it open. He saw a man, whose face was concealed by shadow. He leaped out the window, Robert followed him. The two engaged in a chase, charging through bushes and leaping over fences. The man reached back pulling out a Flintlock rifle; time for aiming was scarce so he fired. The bullet flew past Robert, the wind blowing on his ear. The man continued his sprint, eventually entering a small town. He took a step onto a small stall and leaped through a window. Robert followed, his feet gliding through the air and pounding against the wooden floors. The man, about to leap out from the window had poor timing. His knee striking the window and tripping him over the windowsill. Robert took no hesitation in leaping down from the rooftops and onto the "assassin." He held the blade firmly to the man's throat. Panting heavily.

"Please, don't kill me, I'll tell you anything!" Screamed the man, squirming.

"Who sent you?" Robert asked, trying to gain some air.

"Who do you think? He knows you come for him," the man responded.

"Where is he?" Robert continued to question, his grip on the man tightening.

"The Colosseum," the man replied, feeling the force of Robert's arm on his neck.

"Why?" Robert asked once more frustrated.

"I don't know, now please, let me go!" The man screeched.

"You ratted out the man who employed you, how would I know you're not going to do the same for me? Rest in peace," Robert said. The man screamed as Robert slid the blade across his throat. Robert quickly rushed to the Inn, his attention diverting to Charleston.

"You didn't need to kill him, by the time any word got to Ronald, he would have been dead," Charleston told Robert, breathing heavily.

"Ronald's a dead man but the least of my problems, and are you alright, did he hurt you?" Robert asked, watching as Charleston covered his arm.

"He got me, but it won't be too bad, what happened with that man?" He asked.

"The Colosseum, I don't know what he would be doing there though, it seems like the best place to set up a trap," Robert said, gazing out the window.

"So we'll be there tomorrow?" Charleston questioned, Robert just smirked.

"Yeah, we'll be there."

The sun was rising, Charleston and Robert had put on their garments and made sure they were ready. They galloped to the Colosseum, their horses charging at full pace. The sun shined over the Colosseum, the mossy pillars became more visible and the rusty gates began to glow. Robert and Charleston entered; sneaking around pillars, in the centre there was the man who they had been hunting. The governor. Roland-Michel Barrin de La Galissonière. He held a flintlock rifle firmly; his attention was focusing on the entrances. Robert leaned over; making sure his head was still in cover.

"Look at where he's looking, only focusing forward, if I could distract him, you could climb higher and assassinate him from there," Robert whispered to Charleston. He nodded calmly. Robert emerged from hiding while Charleston began to rush up the Colosseum.

"Well, well, look at what we have here," Ronald said, laughing. The gun pointing towards Robert's heart, a precise aim if Ronald were to shoot the gun.

"What are you planning Ronald?" Robert asked, leaning forward, his blade flickering light through the steel.

"Planning? Oh, the planning stages ended around 2 years ago, after we had taken some prisoners," Ron answered with a grin on his face.

"Would these prisoners happen to be women?!" Robert asked, hearing the sound of a loose rock crumble.

"And children, but what are you planning?" Ronald continued, his head turning around more often.

"I have nothing to plan, where are these prisoners Ronald?" Robert questioned.

"Underneath the Colosseum, it's a shame though, you'll never get to see them-" Ronald said but was interrupted as the snick of blade struck his chest. Charleston had struck. Blood on his hands, Charleston charged forward, in hopes of finding an entrance that would lead underground, the only possible place where he could hide them. His feet pressing against the ground, the sound of a gunshot was heard. Charleston stopped in his tracks and smoke was seen emerging from Ronald's rifle, a smirk shown on his face. Robert quickly reacted; he extended his hidden blade and flung his arms into Ronald's skull repeatedly. He quickly turned his attention towards Charleston. He knelt by his fallen friend's side.

"Rest in peace, I will find her, I promise," Robert told the corpse. He scanned around, eventually finding a small entrance which led to a cave of some sort. He discovered children in one chamber, unharmed. But as he entered the next chamber, he found one woman, sobbing as her hands were bound by chains as well as her legs. Robert approached her slowly.

"Are you Charleston's wife?" Robert asked softly. She didn't move, her soul was... broken.


End file.
